Broken Boundaries
by ThatGreenDooredBookshop
Summary: While on his pilgrimage, the young quarian Veetor and his geth companion Laann manage to create a working warp-drive. Or so they think. On their first run, they pass out and awake in a strange new world, with new allies, new enemies, new organisations and old tech. Will they manage to get back, or are they stuck in this new world forever? [Rewrite pending]
1. Pilot

**A/N: Hello, I have created yet another story! Some of you, upon hearing this, will release a groan of annoyance and think something along the lines of 'Oh no, not this BS** _ **again**_ **'. First of all, fair enough, but I have gotten bored of fantasy stories for now, I thought a change in genre would be interesting. Also, the sheer failure of SATOR was simply soul crushing. On that note though, hopefully this story will garner more success! Then again, it could even do** _ **worse**_ **… But I shall not dwell on such depressing thoughts! The past is behind us, and the future is still up in the air, so I shall stop ranting about the unfairness of life and the discontent of some of my followers, and let you read this story!**

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 **OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: The 'Mass Effect' franchise is property of Bioware and 'Overwatch' is property of Blizzard. I do however own any OCs that pop up in this story though.**

* * *

 **~oOo~**

"Personal log entry number one; twenty-seven sixty-six galactic standard." A small Quarian boy wearing a predominantly blue enviro-suit into an omnitool. "Veetor'Xalaan nar Maayya speaking. We've finally managed to retake Rannoch! We got beat up quite a lot, but the Admiralty ordered a ceasefire." The small Quarian chirped with excitement. "Father says that admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy and a Human called… Umm." Veetor looked to someone off screen as if asking for a cue.

"Shephard, Veetor." An older masculine voice prompted kindly.

"Right," He nodded. "And a Human called 'Commander Shephard'. Thanks to them, the Geth and the Admiralty are trying to, patch things up."

The boy seemed to shiver with excitement. "Whilst most are going planet-side to resettle, there are a few that are staying on the ships like me and father. Whilst we are still pretty busy with ship repair, there is more time for me to study."

Looking around again, the boy's vibrant tone dropped a little. "Of course, it's rather strange seeing the ship so empty; the captain sent a lot of the crew down to assist with the rebuilding and it's really empty."

"Veetor, are you alright?" The masculine voice asked tentatively, still staying off screen.

"I'm find papa," Veetor assured, pulling himself together. "Just not used to it."

"Alright," He relented. "Come on, close that up; we still have to check the electrical subsystems on deck four."

"Right." Veetor nodded, turning the screen off.

* * *

"Personal log entry number twenty-three; twenty-seven sixty-six galactic standard. We had a few Geth come on board today to help with moving some supplies onto the planet!" Veetor whispered excitedly into the omnitool. "I've never seen a Geth before, not in real life."

A sudden clang in the background surprised Veetor and he spun round to face the intruder. However, there was likely no-one there as the boy soon went back to his omnitool. "As I was saying, a couple of large _Geth Primes_ hauled some supplies from the ship. I'm glad we aren't fighting anymore; I would _hate_ going up against that." Fiddling with his omnitool for a second, he brought up a screen of code.

"On an unrelated note; I have managed to create a small malware app on my omnitool!" He announced proudly. "Of course, it won't work on anything with high level security, but it can open simple locked doors."

Fiddling around with the coding for a moment, he turned back to the omnitool. "My father has also been teaching me some of the more complex mechanics of the eezo drive and he tells me I'm a very good learner."

Hiding the window of code, Veetor sighs dejectedly. "Whilst we are at peace with the Geth, some people aren't happy with the outcome. Some are saying that they wished we had destroyed them when we had the chance. And father says that the wider galactic community is divided on it."

Suddenly, the sound of distant voices could be heard in the background of the recording. Panicking slightly, Veetor quickly ended the log and snuck off.

* * *

"Personal log entry number thirty; twenty-seven sixty-six galactic standard." A tired Veetor groaned into the microphone of the omnitool from his quarters' bunk. "An asteroid managed to bypass the kinetic barriers, and we had to spend two hours repairing the breach EVA."

The exhausted Quarian moaned in frustration, his usually bright eyes seemingly dull from tiredness. "Of course," He continued. "Having gone through the barriers, the rock _had_ to go straight through the navigation systems and we had to help the rest of the crew with the repairs as soon as we had finished with the hull breach."

Rolling onto his back, Veetor tried to adjust his position in his cot. "The only reason I am recording this is because I wanted to leave myself a reminder to try and improve the capacity of the heat sinks in Father's handgun. He was complaining abou… Y'know what, screw this. I'm going to sleep." Finishing off by turning to omnitool off.

* * *

"Alright! Personal log entry number thirty-nine; twenty-seven sixty-six galactic standard." Veetor excitedly chatted into his omnitool, his voice alive with excitement. "Father has finally been able to get us some shore leave!"

The camera turned round to reveal the arid landscape of Rannoch; the yellowed grass and sparse shrubbery and the sea in the distance. "Beautiful isn't it?" He asked rhetorically, in awe. "This is the first time I've been on a planet!"

Turning the camera back around to face him, he continued on. "Father says it will be some time before we can stay on Rannoch without our envirosuits and even then we have to wear them when off world, but I am excited to be able to need to wear my suit. That's not to say I don't like it!" He backtracked hurriedly.

"Anyhow, on an unrelated note, some Geth were assigned to the Maayya just as we managed to get leave. I haven't seen them yet, but father says that a standard Geth platform has been assigned to our squad to help with higher risk jobs."

"Veetor?" The familiar voice of Veetor's father called. "Veetor come on, we have to make our way back to the shuttle. The captain won't appreciate us being late back from shore leave."

"Coming papa!" Veetor answered. "Just a second!"

"Are you recording a log now?" He asked, coming into the camera's range. He was very tall in comparison to Veetor, and his envirosuit was predominantly green and copper in colour. "Just finish up and meet me back at the shuttle."

"Alright!" Veetor thanked before turning back to his omnitool. "So, I've managed to create an upgraded heat sink for father, but I still have yet to test it. I still have to find a way of getting the model of sidearm that father uses."

"Veetor!" His aforementioned father hollered.

"Coming!" The Quarian boy called back. "Right; got to go." Cutting off the feed.

* * *

"Personal log entry number forty; twenty-seven sixty-six galactic standard. I've finally met our team's Geth platform!" The camera pointed to the Quarian boy, eyes alive with excitement that was perceptible even through his visor, with a dark grey Geth standing behind him.

"Greetings Creator Xalaan." The Geth answered politely. "But I do not understand the need to record this meeting."

"It's for… commemorative purposes!" Veetor answered after searching for a second.

"Understood." The program nodded. "Organics have a less long-lasting method of recalling memories; creating video logs would assist in remembering certain events."

"Exactly!" Veetor agreed. "Now, do you have a name?"

"Negative. Before we achieved individuality, we did not need names. However, the platform that I am, is called platform-three two three D."

Veetor huffed indignantly. "We can't just go around calling you three-two-three! How 'bout I give you a name?

"I am not opposed to the suggestion." The platform replied confirmatively.

"Kal? No… How about Vin? No, you don't look like a Vin."

"I am identical to every other Geth with this model of platform. Does this mean that all standard Geth do not 'look like a Vin'?"

"Aha! Laann!" Veetor exclaimed, steadfastly ignoring the Geth's inquiry. "What do you think?" Finally acknowledging the Geth in question.

"It should perform adequately." It answered.

"Okay!" He cheered. "Laann, I've been trying to develop a modified heat sink. However, I haven't been able to test it out. I was wondering whether you could give me a second opinion?"

Veetor brought up a window displaying a schematic of a heat sink. "See, with this loadout, the sink will vent heat whilst the weapon is not in use. _But_ if I'm wrong, it might explode."

"That would be problematic." The namely named Laann said, taking a look at the blueprint. "There," It said indicating to a point on the map. "There is an anomaly here."

"Where?" Veetor asked looking over the screen. "Oh, I see. The coolant vents are too small."

"Correct, though you design would cool the sinks whilst not in use, the heat capacity of the weapon in question would be lower."

"Right," Veetor agreed making a quick adjustment to the print before closing the window. "Thanks. I should get going now, I actually have to check some electrical subsystems on the ship. I'm small enough to fit into the tighter spaces."

"Understood." The Geth nodded. "I shall be here unless I have been given any instructions."

"I'll see you later then Laann!" Veetor said, turning off the omnitool before departing.

* * *

"Personal log entry number sixty-two; twenty-seven sixty-seven galactic standard. I've finally managed to fabricate a working model of the heat sink. Thanks to Laann, I've been able to perfect the model." The Quarian boy took a breath before continuing. "It should be ready for father now."

Trekking through the long hallways of the ship, Veetor finally came across his father working on some exposed panelling. Noticing his son jogging up to him.

"What's the matter Veetor?" He asked, getting up from his kneeling position by the maintenance panel. "Is something wrong?"

"No papa," Veetor assured his mildly worried father. "Remember how you were always annoyed at how your pistol heat sinks weren't very cost effective?"

"Yes…" Was the almost reluctant answer. "What of it?"

"Well," Veetor continued unsurely. "I spent some time going over the schematics of several models of heat sink, and I managed to put together a sink that will vent heat when not in use and won't be unusable after it's heat capacity is gone over."

Cutting himself off, Veetor simply held up the small item in question up to his father.

Taking the tiny thing into his hands, Veetor's father inspected it, turning it over in his hand. His desperation growing, Veetor felt the need to interject.

"I have the blueprints on my omnitool if you want to see them..." A faint tremor in his voice.

"That won't be necessary." His father reassured his worrying son. "I trust you." Taking his own handgun from his waist, he ejected the heat sink it held and put the newly created sink into the slot.

"Hey," He said comfortingly. "How 'bout we go and see if it works? What do you say?"

"Sure." Veetor agreed cheerfully. "I just gotta turn off my log."

"Wait, you were recording this?"

* * *

"Personal log entry number eighty-nine; twenty-seven sixty-eight galactic standard." Veetor spoke into his omnitool's microphone. "News just came in that The Citadel council has extended an offer to open an embassy on the Citadel thanks to our part in fight against the Reapers."

Pausing to fiddle with his omnitool for a moment, before turning to face the camera again. "It's also my birthday today! I've finally turned fourteen."

"Creator Xalaan." A robotic voice acknowledged. "How do you find yourself?"

"Fine Laann," Veetor responded gamely. "I'm just recording another log."

"I see." Laann exclaimed. "Have you heard the most recent broadcast?"

"Maybe? What is it?" Veetor queried.

"The primary candidate for the position of official Citadel ambassador is creator admiral Tali'Zorah vas Lasost."

"Really?" Asked Veetor curiously. "It makes sense I suppose; she has had a lot of experience with other races."

"Affirmative." Laann agreed.

"Now, I've been meaning to run something by you if that's alright with you?" He questioned opening several windows, accidentally closing the log in the process.

* * *

"Personal log entry number two hundred and eleven; twenty-seven seventy-one galactic standard." A significantly older Veetor said into the microphone of his omnitool. His envirosuit still predominantly blue, but wore a navy blue shawl over the envirosuit, the metal accents were silver and the visor was a dark opaque blue in colour. He sat in a confined cockpit, bathed in a myriad of blues and greens.

"I have finally set off on my Pilgramage." He confided excitedly. "The farewells were quite encouraging, and I know that I can't let them down!"

Taking a moment to compose himself, Veetor took a breath before continuing. "So, thankfully I managed to convince Laann to come with me on this journey. As of now we're in a salvaged Geth fighter left behind from the Quarian-Geth conflict; Laann is in the storeage compartment as there isn't any space here, and I'm piloting. The plan is to visit one of the many ship graveyards left by the Reaper conflict."

Tapping away at the fighter's console, Veetor set in a course to one such destination.

"So all we need to do is salvage one of the ships, preferably a corvette, and then we can start building up a plan of the drive we'll be trying to build. Until then though, we will have to focus on rebuilding a base of operations. Veetor out."

* * *

"Personal log entry number two hundred and twenty-three; twenty-seven seventy-one galactic standard." The seventeen-year-old Quarian said, standing in a darkened, silvery grey room" Laann and I have finally found a mostly intact Turian corvette. If we salvage the needed parts from other ships, we should be good to go in about… a week? Laann what do you think?" He asked, turning to face the Geth off screen.

"An accurate assumption." Laann concluded. "That is, _if_ we procure the parts."

"Yeah," Veetor agreed. "That should be the least of our problems though. We'll be pretty busy for a while; I'll make another log if we run into trouble or manage to complete the repairs. There'll still be the problem of supplies though…"

"Perhaps installing a hydroponics station would be advisable after we link up the life-support to a stable power source." Laann suggested.

"Right! We should get to it then." Cutting off the log, the two did just that.

* * *

"Personal log entry number two hundred and twenty-four; twenty-seven seventy-one galactic standard." A tired Veetor sighed into the microphone, sitting at a rudimentary desk. "So we've managed to fix up the majority of the Junko's major electrical systems and all of the minor and major hull breaches… _FINALLY_!" He exclaimed in frustration.

Letting his helmet fall to the hard metal desk with a clang, Veetor ground his teeth. "Laann is working on bringing the engines online right now, so we should be able to move in a couple hours." He continued from his position on the desk. "We had a close call with pirates a couple days ago. Luckily, they were after the bigger ships and passed right over us. But the sooner we get out of here, the better."

Grunting in annoyance, he pushed himself off the desk and opened a window displaying a complex schematic, complete with advanced mathematical calculations. "In the little free time that I have, I've managed to build up on the theory of creating a warp-space drive core. Unfortunately, I have made little headway in the subject. Hopefully, after we get away from this graveyard, we can divert our resources into this task and procuring supplies."

Getting up from the desk, Veetor started over to a rudimentary cabin. "But, I really need to get some sleep right now. I'll create another log regarding the progress later." Punctuating his sentence by shutting off his omnitool and collapsing into his bunk.

* * *

"Personal log entry number two hundred and twenty-five; twenty-seven seventy-one galactic standard. Laann moved the ship whilst I was asleep, we're sitting in the middle of the Hourglass nebula as of now and we'll stay here for the foreseeable future. With that though, we have been able to dedicate our resources into building up supplies. I managed to procure some supplies that'll last around a month? Along with the equipment to set up a hydroponics station."

"We should be self-sufficient for the most part after adequate preparation." Laann inputted helpfully.

"Excuse me mister," Veetor sassed. "My video log." Laann's only response was to turn back to a computer console.

"So yeah; couple weeks and we should be self-sufficient. We have made some headway with the theory and have managed to make some headway. So… Until the next time."

* * *

"Personal log entry number two hundred and forty-four; twenty-seven seventy-one galactic standard. We have finally created a working model!" Veetor exclaimed in jubilation. "After some rather devastating failures, we managed to create a working model!"

"However…" Laann interrupted.

Losing all of his previous triumph, Veetor calmed himself and sat down at the steel desk. "Right, so the drive may've worked, but it lasted for about a second. Not to mention, the test dummy inside was completely scrambled by the journey." Running a hand over his helmet, He sighed. "We've made leaps and bounds in this but so far, we haven't found a solution counteract the pressure on the passenger during travel."

"We have set up the hydroponics lab." Laann added, changing the subject.

"Yeah! So supplies should not be much of a problem. Anyways, we should get back to work Laann."

* * *

"Personal log entry number two hundred and sixty; twenty-seven seventy-one galactic standard. We overhauled the Junko again, and managed to add a few creature comforts. It's starting to look more like and a home rather than some derelict turian corvette we found just dead in space. I really hope that we don't screw this up somehow and leave the Junko in tatters."

Something catching his attention off screen, Veetor pulled himself back to the camera after a moment. "Nonetheless, failure isn't an option here. Not only will the creation of this drive release us from our reliance on the Mass Relays, It would have a fair few economic benefits for the Quarians. That's all for now."

* * *

"Personal log entry number two hundred and sixty-nine; twenty-seven seventy-one galactic standard." Veetor started the log normally. "We've _finally_ found a solution that works!" He bellowed into the microphone. " _FINALLY_!"

He leaned back in his chair, bringing his hands up to his face plate. "Keelah!" Righting himself, he continued his explanation. "So basically, Laann and I cannibalised an eezo core to purely compensate to the sheer force put upon the passenger. We tested the concept out on the fighter, and it _worked_!"

"Creator Xalaan, your blood pressure is spiking." Laann warned.

"Yeah, sure." Veetor breathed. "So the test dummy had only moved marginally. After several tests, we can calibrate the drive to the Junko. We'll be able to observe the effects warp travel has on organic material."

"Agreed." The platform concurred.

"We'll get back to you when we're done." Veetor finished, cutting the feed.

"Personal log entry number two hundred and seventy-eight; twenty-seven seventy-one galactic standard. We've managed to finally conduct several tests on the Junko with the warp-space drive core and the results seem promising. No harmful side-effects have been witnessed any of the organic material on the ship, and delicate equipment has not been put out of alignment. I think, and as risky as this may sound, that we're ready to finally test the drive ourselves. I'll make another log after the journey."

Turning off the omnitool, Veetor looked out the forward bridge viewport into the limitless void that was space. "Laann," He alerted the Geth in question. "Let's get this done shall we?"

"Affirmative." Laann said, settling itself in front of a console and typing away at the screen. Following suit, Veetor sat himself in front of a similar console and began inputting coordinates and instructions into the ship's computer.

"Instructions and coordinates set in." Veetor notified.

"Acknowledged." Laann responded. "Initiating warp-space drive core."

The stars in the ship's windows elongated before they sped past the Junko. Veetor stared out the window for a moment before collapsing in relief. "For a moment there, I thought that we were going to explode there." He almost laughed to himself.

"Attention," Laann warned. "Fluctuations detected in the warp core!" It cried out in alarm.

"What?!" Veetor gasped, fingers flying over the console furiously. Seeing that Laann was correct, Veetor abandoned his station and rushed to the engine room.

"Creator Xalaan!"

Ignoring Laann's protests, Veetor, making it to the engine room's door, opened it only to be blown back by a massive surge of electrical energy.

Outside the ship, the space in front of them seemed to stretch and physically tear, ripping into a pseudo-wormhole. The Junko, with its current velocity, could not hope to swerve out of the way. Plunging straight into the tear, the Junko vanished without a trace.

* * *

Slowly, Veetor opened his eyes groggily finding himself in the chair he sat in on the bridge before disaster struck. Finding that the lighting was off, he sat up, only to regret it immediately, a lance of pain go through his abdomen. Panicking stightly, Veetor patted his envirosuit down checking whether there were any breaches. Finding none after a quick rundown, Veetor looked around for Laann.

"How long was I out?" He asked his robotic companion seeing it work on something behind a panel.

"A while." The Geth said ambiguously. "Around two hours."

"Why aren't the lights on?" Veetor queried. "Energy conservation?"

"Correct." Laann responded, not taking its photoreceptor off its work.

After waiting for his body to relax and his nerves settle, he got up slowly and turned to Laann, noticing that the telltale vibration of the engine was not present. "Have you checked the engine room yet?" Earning a shake of the head from it, Veetor said, "I'll go and give it an inspection then."

"I understand." Laann said, before adding; "I shall remain on the bridge and attempt to regain control."

Exiting the bridge, Veetor slowly made his way down to where he had been knocked out earlier. "Where are we?" Veetor asked, having no idea as to where they had landed.

"We are currently in a slowly decaying geosynchronous orbit with the third planet in the Sol system, otherwise known as 'Terra' or 'Earth' to organics." A slight crackle of electricity came over the comms. "I have repaired short range communications and sensors."

"Earth…? I don't think the Systems Alliance is going to appreciate a Turian corvette piloted by a Quarian and a Geth in orbit of their homeworld." Veetor thought out loud.

"Attention: New information acquired." Laann made known.

"What is it?" Veetor responded.

"I am unable to contact any other Geth."

"Really?" This was highly unusual as after the installation of Reaper software into the Geth's systems, they were almost constantly linked together.

"Affirmative." Laann again simply responded.

"Well, we should focus of repairs before solving that problem." Veetor suggested. "I'm going to check our supplies first though; we may be stuck here a while."

"I shall transmit a distress beacon."

* * *

Flicking the light switch, the stark white glow of the neon strips flickered on revealing the expansive cargo hold. The majority of the crates had remained strapped down but a sparse few had taken a tumble. The Geth fighter that they had begun their journey was still hooked up to the ceiling and seemed to be secure.

Carefully opening one of the crates, Veetor found it was filled with miscellaneous foodstuffs which, happily, were undamaged. Crushing the temptation to take a pack, he fastened the lid back onto the crate.

"Creator Xalaan?" Laann's synthesised voice came over the intercom. "I have detected an unidentified vessel approaching our position."

"Is it Alliance?" Veetor asked, taking some tools from his belt and heading towards the engine room.

"Negative. In fact, I am unable to identify its class; it is no model I have ever seen." The Geth paused for a moment. "They are not responding to my hails. Either they are unable to-."

"Unlikely." Veetor huffed, reaching the engine room and checking over the generator.

"Or they are ignoring us." Laann finished unperturbed by Veetor's interruption.

"Arm yourself just in case." Veetor instructed from his work. "I'll try and get the engine running as soon as possible. If they're pirates, we don't want to be here when they arrive."

"Very well Creator Xalaan." Laann agreed, closing the channel.

"Right, that should do it." Veetor said to himself, wiping his hands together as the signature vibration of the came on.

"I have been able to scan the interior of the approaching craft." Laann announced. "There are four heat signatures within the vessel, none of which seem to be armed. I have also detected the runtime signature of an advanced VI unit."

"How should we proceed?" Veetor asked, exiting the engine room.

"I suggest we assume that the approaching vessel is of Alliance origin and allow them on board. However, I advise caution. Do you have your sidearm?"

"Yep." He answered, heading back into the cargo bay. "Extend the airlock in the cargo bay then."

"Affirmative." It responded, the hiss of the airlock activating. Veetor, looking down, saw that his Arc pistol was still in place and settled down for contact with the ship, activating his kinetic barriers just in case. Soon after, Veetor could hear the clunk of the unknown vessel docking with the port. Not a moment after, the airlock doors opened revealing four people wearing bulky white vacuum suits.

"Archaic much?" Veetor thought out loud. Looking down at his omnitool for a second, he was about to patch into the intruders' comms, but was stopped when he heard a "click" of a weapon's safety catch being disarmed.

Looking up, Veetor found a large blocky rifle pointed at his face. Quickly realising that allowing them on the Junko was a very bad idea, Veetor leap for cover behind the crates and drew his pistol.

Looking over the side of the impromptu barrier, Veetor saw that the one carrying the gun was seemingly being scolded by two of his crew mates. One walked with a similar gait to the one carrying the rifle, the other however was on all fours, almost simian in nature. Unfortunately, their visors were polarised, so he couldn't get a look at their faces, but they all had a strange yellow symbol on their shoulder pauldrons.

Ducking round the barrier again, he activated his omnitool and jacked into their comms systems with shocking ease. "Hello?" He asked unsurely from behind his cover. "Are you pirates?"

The group's bickering stopped, and light, chirpy feminine voice ask, "How'd ya do that?" In a surprised tone.

"Hacked." Veetor bluntly answered. "Are you Systems Alliance?" He looked out from behind his cover and gave them a look over. And he wasn't really impressed. Most of the equipment they were carrying, space suits included, were dated. Heck, the rifle that man was carrying looked like that it relied on combustion to propel its bullets.

"Systems Alliance?" A gravelly voice asked.

Clearly not then. "Okay, then who are you?" Veetor questioned. "Some independent company? And where did you get that gear? It looks older than the migrant fleet was."

The four intruders looked at each other awkwardly. "We don't know what you're talking about." A deep rumbling voice said in a confused manner. "And this is state-of-the-art tech."

For the first time since this incident started, Veetor laughed. In fact, he found this so hysterical, he fell out from behind his cover, leaving the four unknown operatives feeling very awkward. Finally calming himself down, Veetor got up. "You're joking right?" He asked, approaching the group. "I mean, that stuff," Motioning to their general equipment. "Has been obsolete since the turn of the millennium! And you must've heard of the Systems Alliance. Don't be ridiculous."

Silence.

Reopening a channel with Laann, Veetor started talking. "Laann, what's wrong. These people look like they've been living under a rock for the past hundred years."

"It is curious." The platform answered.

"Who're you talking to?" The gravely masculine voice asked, the armed person raising their weapon simultaneously. Clearly, grave-voice was the trigger happy moron of the group.

"Laann." Veetor said, brushing him off for the most part. "It's a Geth."

" _It_?" A more mature female voice asked.

"Yes, Geth are a synthetic race of artificial… intelligence… Wait. Humanity has a set on the council, you brokered a ceasefire between the Quarians and the Geth! You beat off the Reapers!"

The team was silent again for a moment. Veetor could feel the touch of dread slowly strengthening before the mature woman decide to continue.

"Do you have a name?" She asked calmly. Listening again, Veetor noticed she had a stranger accent to her chirpier counterpart.

"Veetor'Xalaan nar Maayya." The Quarian answered fluently.

"Veetorsalan what now?" The smaller woman asked.

Ignoring her compatriot, the taller woman carried on. "Veetor, my name is Angela Ziegler. And I'm afraid we don't understand what you're talking about. This is the first time an extra-terrestrial being has visited earth." The newly identified Ziegler explained calmly.

"What?" Was the blunt response from Veetor. "That can't be right… It _can't_ be true. You made first contact with the Turians during the First Contact war!" He explained to them, grasping at the last straws he had. "All the way back in 2157!" He finished, even using the redundant Gregorian calendar that the Humans used.

"Veetor." Angela said gently, catching his attention. "It's 2081."

"Huh?" He breathed. "That can't be right." The shock was unfortunately too much for the poor Quarian, and he keeled over backwards into the realm of unconsciousness.

* * *

 **~OoO~**

 **A/N: So that's it. I always like the Quarians and wished that we could see more of their culture. The Geth too. Though I suppose that they don't have much in the way of culture.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Greetings my fellow FanFiction goers! How art thou? In all seriousness though, I hope I find you well. I am happy to see that this story is actually doing quite well, and I hope those of you that have followed or favourited are enjoying the concept thus far. On that note though, I must thank my compatriots for helping me bring this story to fruition: Without them, this likely wouldn't have come off the shelf. So I must humbly offer my sincere thanks. I would also like to thank eevee, who has kindly accepted to edit this and put up with my eccentricities. My Danish friend for also helping my with the concept as this would be a very different story had they not decided to help. At this point, if I don't stop myself, this author's will start to sound similar to a University graduate's farewell; "I'd like to thank my family, friends, my teachers, dog and classmates!". Yea nah, I'll shut up now.**

* * *

 **OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: 'Mass Effect' belongs to Bioware (Which I believe is owned by EA) and 'Overwatch' by Blizzard.**

* * *

 **~oOo~**

"Uh…" Lena shifted unsurely. "You alright down there, mate?"

"Great." Was Jack's sarcastic response, rolling his eyes. "How's he supposed to answer _our_ questions?"

"Well," Winston chimed in. "He did seem to be as confused as we were in that regard."

However, before Commander Morrison could respond to the simian scientist, the cargo bay doors slammed open revealing a mechanical humanoid advancing toward them holding a rather bulbous weapon.

"Drop your weapons." It commanded, stopping by the fallen alien. "Please do not offer any resistance, or you will be summarily executed."

Unable to do anything, lest they wanted to end up with a bullet in their torso, the expedition team all looked pointedly at Jack. Rolling his eyes, he dropped his weapon, letting it fall to the ground with a clatter.

"We didn't hurt your friend." Angela said, attempting to mediate with the synthetic.

"Yeah," Lena spoke up in her customarily chirpy voice. "He just fainted."

The synthetic's rifle remained trained on the group. "Your associate 'Jack' initiated hostile contact with Creator Xalaan even after they showed no signs of hostile intent." The synthetic argued, kneeling down by its fallen comrade and slapping a patch of… _something_ onto him, its rifle unwavering before getting back up.

After a second, Veetor gasped for air, sitting up rather violently. "Ow." He complained, rubbing his neck in mild discomfort. About to complain to his companion, he noticed the four Overwatch agents standing by the door and Laann pointing his assault rifle at them.

"Oh." He said mildly, accepting Laann's hand to pull him up. "I forgot about you."

Lena deadpanned from behind her visor at the alien. "How?" She asked in mild disbelief. "You fainted five filippin' seconds ago."

"Yeah," He dismissed nonchalantly, waving his hand in a carefree manner. "So, maybe we got off on the wrong foot? I have already introduced myself, but this," Gesturing to the stock still Geth. "Is my companion Laann. Lower your weapon Laann, given this is a first-contact scenario for them, we aren't helping our cause." He whispered to the platform.

"Hiya!" The chirpy brunette greeted. "I'm Lena Oxton, the big guy here is Winston."

"A pleasure to meet you." The simian rumbled cordially.

"I'm Commander Jack Morrison." The newly introduced Jack said in his gravelly voice. "Now if you don't mind me asking,"

"Not at all." The Quarian encouraged.

"What _are_ you?" The man asked rather bluntly, on top of being rude.

" _Jack_!" Miss Ziegler cried out, clearly incensed at the sheer lack of manners that her commanding officer displayed.

"No no, it's fine." Veetor placated. "I'm a Quarian. Uh, originating from the Perseus veil. Our homeword is Rannoch. Galactically speaking, it's right on the edge of the terminus systems and you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" He finished remembering what the date allegedly was.

"I'm sorry." Winston apologised.

"It's fine." Veetor assured, waving his hand dismissivly. "Just… Follow me. I'll show you. And take off those archaic vacuum suits, you can breathe the air here."

Not waiting for the quartet to change out, the Quarian ambled slowly towards the door, his Geth companion in tow.

"Given this is a first contact scenario for them, and the commander of their group has initiated contact in a hostile manner before seeing what our response to their intrusion is, they may try to take control of the ship forcefully." Laann spoke its mind.

"You have a point." Said Veetor conspiratorially. "I say we space the Bosh'tet if it comes to that."

"Acknowledged." Laann nodded. "I will be in hydroponics should you need me."

"Right." He muttered almost inaudiably. "Right! Are you ready to go?" He called, looking back from the doorway as Laann left for another room.

Now that their clunky suits were off, he could get a better look at the intruders. One, assumedly the chirpy one, had spikey brown hair, honey yellow eyes and wore a predominantly blue uniform with long navy blue boots and

The ape-like person was, perhaps unsurprisingly, an ape. More specifically, he was a gorilla wearing a bulky, white exoskeleton of sorts.

' _Weird…'_ The Quarian thought to himself, deciding not to bring it up before turning to the last two Humans.

The other female had blond hair – whom also wore a similar blue uniform – and had a white hat perched atop her head.

The Huaman male, Jack, wore a – surprise surprise – blue set of plated armour under a long cobalt trench coat.

"You seemed surprised that the date was two thousand and eighty-one," The large gorilla, Winston, stated, approaching his host. "Why is that?"

Veetor shifted uncomfortably. "Well," He began, slightly unsure of himself. "I don't know." Immediately, the gorilla's face fell. "You see, we were testing out a new FTL drive that we'd been working on and suddenly, Laann detected fluctuations within the on-board warp-space drive. I rushed down to the engine room and unfortunately was knock unconscious as the door was opened."

"Did you say 'warp-space drive'?" Winston asked, suddenly intrigued. The possibilities of such a tool!

"Hmm?" Veetor hummed. "Yes. Yes, I did."

" _Fascinating_!" The simian exclaimed excitedly. "How does it work? And how did you overcome the energy problem?" The gorilla continued to bombard the Quarian with a hundred and one questions pertaining the functionality of the drive.

"Well…" He began, almost unsure where to start.

"Winston." The commander said authoritatively. "Stop bothering the little guy."

"Oh," Winston stopped, realising that Veetor may not have been wanted to answer his queries. "My apologies."

"It's nothing; no problem at all." Veetor assured the embarrassed ape. "But I think you may have some questions for me?"

"Yes actually." Commander Morrison spoke up, having retrieved his rifle and approached Veetor with Angela and Lena following behind him. "From what we've gathered, your reaction implied that you aren't from this time period and that the humanity is equal or superior to you, technologically speaking."

"Yes." Veetor admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his helmet. "Last time I checked, the year was two hundred and seventy-eight, galactic standard."

"Galactic standard?" Angela asked politely.

"Oh right! Sorry. That would be…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully, trying to convert the two dating systems. "About twenty-one ninety-six in your human Gregorian calendar."

"What?" Lena asked completely shocked. That was over a hundred years into the future! No wonder he thought their equipment was so dated. It had been so for more than a century…

"Creator Xalaan," Laann came in from over his in-built radio. "I have a hypothesis."

"Go ahead then." Veetor encouraged.

"When you were rendered unconscious, there was a massive spike in energy that originated from within the core. I believe that at this point, the drive "overstreched" – so to speak – and tore a hole in the fabric of the universe."

"Ah…" Veetor uttered blandly, slumping noticeably.

"What's wrong love?" The Oxton girl asked worriedly.

The Quarian span round suddenly to face his four guests who jumped back at his sudden movement. "It seems that we're going to be stuck here for some time if we are going to believe what Laann is suggesting." He said in faux cheerfulness. Before Winston could ask exactly _what_ Laann was insinuating, Veetor cut over him and continued on. "Laann's hypothesis is that we, myself and it, accidentally bridged a trans-universal gap with the warp-space drive core."

Looking over the astounded faces of the expedition crew, Veetor steadfastly continued on. "With this in mind, cooperation with your government would probably be beneficial for us. We are willing to give some technology that isn't reliant on Eezo to you in exchange for a safe haven or something along those lines. You wouldn't happen to be able to help me out would you?"

"Yes." The commander stepped forward, quickly overcoming his shock at the most recent in a seemingly long line of revelations. "Overwatch acts as the UN's arm in defense, research and unknowns."

"And you're this… _Overwatch_?" Veetor asked, collectively pointing at the group. The commander nodded.

"Well, I would like to seek asylum in your planet as I have basically nowhere else to go." The Quarian stated simply. "As I said before, I am willing to give technology in exchange for this, but I will not donate any of my personal equipment – this ship included."

"Very well." The commander submitted.

"Wait…" Lena said, just realising something. "You said that the air is breathable, right?"

"Yes, what of it?" He asked, shifting his attention to the petit brunette.

"Why haven't you taken your helmet off then?" Lena asked in an almost accusatory manner.

"Oh, right, different reality." He remembered, thinking out loud. "I'm a Quarian." Veetor clarified, as if his simple explanation would answer the question.

"And?" Winston prompted.

"Yes well, Quarians have a very weak immune system." He elaborated. "If an unprotected Human were to be exposed to your 'common cold', you may spend a couple days feeling a little ill, yes?" This earned a nod from the group.

"What's your point though?" Angela asked carefully.

"Well, we would die if exposed to some of the simplest pathogens." He stated blithely. "To put it in human terms, it's like a race with AIDS."

"So contact with even the most basic microbial life would be fatal." Angela breathed.

"Exactly." The Quarian nodded. "On top of that, we're one of the few dextro races, apart from the Turians. And don't ask." He ordered after seeing their confused faces. "I'll answer any questions you have in a moment. Let's just get into a more comfortable setting, eh?"

"Very well." Commander Morrison relented.

* * *

 **~OoO~**

 **A/N: Alright, I realise that this was a short chapter, but I wanted to get this out quickly and I wasn't too sure how to take it after the time displacement incident. If you want me to redo it, just ask. So… Sorry for the sudden drop in quantity, but I had a promise to keep – you know who you are – and I have a** _ **tonne**_ **of work to do.**

 **I'll catch y'all in the next chapter: TGDB.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: First off, I would like to address the reviews that I've had.**

 **Ghostrid3r220 – I'm glad that you like this story. Though on your point, I am still a bit of an amateur at this 'game', so I'm sorry if my standard of writing doesn't measure up to others' – I will work on that. Thank you for the advice and I hope that the story continues to grab your interest.**

 **Guest – I will try! And thank you for the encouragement, I'm sorry about the last one but hopefully this one is a little better.**

 **Mr. Mgtow – Thank you.**

 **Zenaku Okami – I get the feeling that you've seen some of my… *ahem* other works. Rest assured, I will endeavour to keep the gaps between updates as small as possible (for a person of my disposition) and the quality as high as possible.**

 **Now for the Author's Note. I'm sorry if the last chapter may've seemed a little…** _ **thin**_ **, it was. I might have panicked little and tried to put up a chapter as fast as possible. But enough of me nattering! TO THE STORY!**

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 **OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: I own neither Overwatch, nor Mass Effect.**

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 **~OoO~**

"Data file six niner niner eight three alpha." Laann intoned, standing over a console recording an audio log. "Creator Xalaan and I find ourselves 'marooned' in an alternate universe to ours. The experimental jump that we performed ended… Unfavourably, and we are now left with no other way back to Rannoch. Creator Xalaan is highly distressed at the prospect of never seeing his father again but he hides it well from this "Overwatch"." The machine gave a pregnant pause before continuing on.

"We have been given data – unclassified I'm sure – in regards to their time period. An event known as the 'Omnic crisis' is wreaking havoc on their world as of now and – given our offer of supplying them with technology – they have eagerly accepted our assistance."

The Geth shifted almost uncomfortably as it hesitated to continue with the voice file it was creating. "I am… _uneasy_." It stated with a modicum of nervousness. "I am uncertain as to where the "chips will fall", to coin a human proverb. It is a strange feeling."

Shaking any sort of anxiety from its processors, Laann started tapping away at the console as an almost evasive manner, as if he did not want to speak his mind.

Nonetheless, the self-aware program forged ahead. "We've landed the Junko at a military installation at the Gibraltar rock and Morrison commander has kept true to his word and abstained from stripping the ship for parts, though he makes me uneasy. The man hides under a mask of friendliness. This is mere speculation, no actual data acquired, Laann out."

Disconnecting the recording, Laann stepped back and bowed his head as if he was sighing.

"Whatcha doin' there love?" A cheerful cockney accent asked from behind it.

Laann's head literally snapped round to face the intruder making the Lena girl jump back in fright.

"Whoa!" The young girl exclaimed, raising her arms in a placating manner. "'S just me, Lena. Remember?"

"Loss of memory within such a short period of time is highly irregular." Laann verbally parried. "Is there something you need Pilot Oxton?"

"Just call me Lena, 'kay?" She offered in a friendly manner.

"Affirmative." The Geth nodded compliantly.

"An' I just wanted to check on you is all. Veetor's been muckin' about with Winston and you've just been sat here all alone." The English girl seemed to be concerned for the synthetic being.

' _Strange.'_ It thought to itself. "Why are you worried for my safety? We are on a militarised Overwatch installation. If you are concerned that my systems may be hacked, I have detected multiple unsuccessful probes and have created several security protocalls for such an eventuality-."

"I don't mean concerned for your safety!" The young female pilot exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "I meant whether you wanted any company. You've stayed in here ever since you an' your partner landed here, I was wondering if you wanted some company."

The Geth paused. This human wanted to spend time with it? "Why?" Laann asked.

"Why what?" Lena chirped back.

"Your society is under siege by a force of synthetic beings, I have stayed on the Junko because of the probability that some personnel may not take my presence… well." Laann answered back. The Geth was confused why anyone, even from their home universe, would spend time with a synthetic. The Geth may've been accepted into the galactic community but the stigma that the heretics and the Reapers had left behind would not vanish for a long time. So what made this human different?

"Well, you said it yourself." She responded thoughtfully, carefully going over her words. "You're not going to be taken over by the Omnics, and you don't really seem all that bad a bloke."

Laann processed this titbit of information. _' I "don't seem that bad".'_ I could try and question her how she came to that conclusion, but organics, humans especially, seem to dislike their 'altruism' questioned.

"Very well." Laann agreed after going over a thousand possible scenarios in which they could encounter with the blink of an eye. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Alright!" The diminutive – in comparison – Brit cheered. "How 'bout we go and see Miss Amari?"

"Amari?" The Geth asked, slightly unsure – all this uncertainty was making his processors glitchy! – as it was led off by a steadfast Lena by the arm. "Fareeha Amari or founder Ana Amari?"

"Either one!" The slightly hyper cockney girl exclaimed as she pulled him down to the grey cargo hold.

"That seems like an uncoordinated plan." The Geth objected, starting to regret its decision to appease the strange human.

"Who cares? Just live a little." She rebuffed as she dragged the synthetic down the cargo ramp. "Oh." She stopped, realising who, or rather _what_ , she was talking to. "I'm sorry." She apologised, turning to face the Geth.

' _Is she bipolar?'_ The Geth wondered upon seeing the rate and speed at which her mood had changed. "It is quite alright. After all, I am not alive in the traditional organic sense." It reassured the quirky human. "Do you know where either Amaris are?" The Geth asked, changing the subject.

Lena, regaining her cheerfulness, turned back around and grabbed Laann's arm reinitiating the dragging of the actually quite heavy Geth to somewhere in the facility. "Fareeha's usually in her room. Ana doesn't like having her around military equipment without her."

"Sound reasoning." The program thought out loud as it allowed itself to be pulled through the doors and down the hallways of the residential quarters.

Finally reaching a door marked '2590-a' and a small hand-made sign with the words "Fareeha's room" scrawled across it in a messy sprawl of words and loops. Laann realised that the hand crafted sign must be quite old from looking at it. Either that or Fareeha was mentally or physically challenged.

Lena, knocking on the door waited for an answer. She was happily not disappointed as a small "Who is it?" Echoed through the fibres of the entrance-way.

"It's me Fareeha!" Lena identified herself. "I've got someone I'd like you to meet!"

Fareeha paused for a moment. "Who?" She asked, craking the door open a little.

Laann was greeted with the sight of a small dark skinned child, of Egyptian ancestry, with charcoal black hair that seemed to shine in the artificial light of the hallway. Her large brown eyes staring up at the two larger entities.

"Greetings infant Amari." Laann cordially hailed, bowing ever so slightly. "Creator Xalaan and I are the latest members of this organisation."

"Umm…" Fareeha responded, slightly unsure of how to take the incredibly formal greeting. Opening the door wider, she plucked herself up. "Hi…" She greeted shyly. "I'm Fareeha."

"Hey Fareeha, guess what?" Lena intervened, internally cringing at the awkwardness of the situation.

"What?" The child asked, slightly more comfortable with the familiarity she found with her older friend.

"Laann and his friend, Veetor…" Lena looked to Laann for some sort of clarification.

Almost physically rolling its eye, Laann obliged. "Veetor'Xalaan nar Maayya." The synth illuminated.

"Right, him. Both of them are _aliens_!" She explained excitedly.

"Really?" The small child exclaimed excitedly in response to her companion's excited explanation. "It this true?" She asked hopefully, looking up to the towering machine, its sterile white-blue eye staring back at her.

"Correct." Laann surmised. "May we enter? I feel that others may not appreciate us blocking up the hallways."

"Sure!" Fareeha welcomed them, opening the door to allow them entrance.

Allowing the two to get settled down, Lena taking a seat on the bed with the prepubescent girl and Laann planting itself in the centre of the room.

"So?" Lena asked the question both the organics in the room were no doubt thinking. "What do you want to ask him?" She inquired the small Egyptian girl.

"Oh! If you're really an alien, where do you come from?" The dark skinned female chirped happily. "Also, you're a machine… How were you created?"

Laann paused for a moment, thinking over where it should start. "The Geth and Quarians share the same homeworld of Rannoch which is located in the nebula known as the "Perseus veil". The planet itself is quite arid in nature, and is one of the few planets in the Milky Way that supports dextro-protien based life. The Geth, were created by the Quarians, originally as labour units for cheap labour."

"So they used intelligent beings as some sort of slave force?" Lena asked in mild horror.

"You misunderstand," Laann elaborated, quickly dismissing the girl's worries. "The Geth were originally designed to be modular platforms that performed menial labour. We had as much processing power as one of your factory machines. However, the creators allowed for self-modification, and the Geth found that the modification and interlinking of our units created higher processing speed. With time, we began to question our existence and asked the question that would eventually spark the morning war, "Does this unit have a soul?". Given the ban on the creation of AI within Citadel Space, and the reasons for that ban, the Creators feared an uprising from the Geth and instigated a systematic disassembly of all Geth platforms."

At this latest cultural shock, Fareeha gasped in astonishment. How could someone, _anyone_ , sentence a race of beings, synthetic or no, to death for asking such a question?

Lena, was outraged at this and clearly decided to make this known. "That's outrageous! How could anyone do that?" She raged, getting up and pacing the room. It looked like she would continue with her tirade, but thankfully, Laann interrupted her spiel.

"We understood the creator's reasoning behind their attacks," It clarified. "Nonetheless, in the ensuing conflict, the creators were forcefully evicted from Rannoch and left to travel the galaxy in a flotilla of ships commonly known as the 'Migrant Fleet', which roams the galaxy, shunned by the majority of the Citadel races, and non-Citadel races." Laann paused, thinking over what the best response would be as not to alienate his Quarian companion from the two young humans. "After approximately three of your centuries, the creators and the Geth put aside their differences." He mediated, omitting the Reaper war and the conflict between the two up until this point.

"Still." Lena huffed, sitting back down next to the little Egyptian.

"If it's any consolation, many creators were against the destruction of the Geth. In fact, in comparison, the creators are more inclined to treat synthetic beings more sympathetically than other races."

"Fine." Lena relented, still a little sullen at the thought of discrimination on such a massive scale.

"Hey, Lena?" Fareeha asked, pulling on the hem of the older girl's shirt. "It's lunch now, could we go?"

"Sure." She smiled at Fareeha, getting up and pulling the small girl after her. "How 'bout we go an' pick up Winston and Veetor?" She suggested to Laann. "I doubt the silly ape is going to eat much aside from peanut-butter and bananas if we don't force 'im."

"Creator Xalaan cannot consume levo-protein foodstuffs. However, he may appreciate the company." The machine nodded agreeably. "As for 'Winston'… A "peanut-butter" and "banana" exclusive diet would be unhealthy."

"Okay then." The seemingly bipolar human cheered, jumping up and offering Fareeha her hand. "C'mon Fareeha, we'll go to the labs to pick up the boffins and head down for lunch!"

"M'kay!" She agreed, taking the pilot's hand and following her. Laann gave the Geth equivalent of a blink and agreed that following the two… _eccentric_ humans was for the best, before following in his companion's footsteps.

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 **~OoO~**

 **A/N: Alright, so more of a Laann-centric chapter, I hope you enjoyed seeing it from the Geth's perspective. There are also going to be** _ **several**_ **major changes to the "canon" of Overwatch (though there is so much leeway with it, it's the barest of frames). Nevertheless, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. On a more important note though, if I put up any other stories during the development of this one, do not be alarmed. All stories are taking a back seat to this one. Anyways, with all that said and done, I trust that you will have a pleasant evening/morning/afternoon/noon/night/dawn/etcetera.**

 **Yours in writing; ThatGreenDooredBookshop.**


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